Red Misfortunes
by TheRetardedlyAwesome
Summary: Even if you burn the world to ashes, I will always be by your side. Anything I will do for you, as long as I am not alone. Loki/OC Rewritten
1. Chapter 1

_Prologue_

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There is a reason why she is imprisoned. Not many knows, and those who does wishes they never did. Locked away in a place where no one can reach, where escape is impossible. A prison that not even the strongest man could break for it is a prison of space and time itself. To be trapped forever, and forgotten.

_A monster _they used to say, _did the evilest of deeds_. _Death is not enough of a punishment. _

And forgotten she is, as time resumed in the world above. Generations past, and a myth her existence became. People begin to question the logic behind it. _Impossible, _they say.

Unknown to anyone, through all this she survived. In a place where there is nothing and everything. Where she cannot die because time and space does not exist, which means she too does not exist. Something that was never there cannot disappear. But in a way she does exist, because her heart still beats, and she still feels.

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He is floating, falling, plummeting down into oblivion all at once. For how long he cannot tell. It is endless; the silence, the darkness, the depth of his fall. Because Loki has climbed up so high, and it's a long fall to the bottom.

It wasn't what he wanted—not at all. He wasn't a fool, he knew that it wouldn't be quick and painless, but it never occurred to him that it would hurt this much. Time, he had so much of it in his hands. Memories, even if he wanted to, he couldn't erase it, not all of it. It haunts him throughout everything.

_Hate hate hate. _He hates it all, hates all of them. If it wasn't for _him_, he'd have succeeded; made his fath—made Odin proud. A mistake, all of it was a mistake.

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It isn't rare for her to question her sanity. For a time her mind would create illusions to sate her eternal loneliness. But this man wasn't like her other mind-tricks, she doesn't know him, never seen him before. He is lying on the ground, motionless. Unlike her usual illusions, she cannot see him perfectly—shrouded in the darkness.

'_Who are you?_' she asks in her mind, for it has been a long time since she has last opened her mouth, and could not bring herself to do so. The man did not stir—a queer thing; usually her illusions would respond immediately.

The prisoner falls down on her knees. With hesitation she reaches out to the unmoving man, knowing that she will find nothing in the darkness. _He will dissolve, be gone, disappear; just like everyone else. _She was sure of it, yet her fingers still reaches out.

And to her utmost horror; he did not disappear.

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Loki did not let himself fall, hoping to open his eyes again.

He had wanted an end to all the treachery, all the pain and jealousy. But it seemed even death wasn't enough of a punishment for someone like him.

Now he finds himself in an eternal darkness. No longer falling, but it doesn't matter.

Is he even awake? He could not tell.

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The prisoner sits down next to the fallen man. How much time has passed she did not know, but not once did he stir. _Perhaps he is dead,_ she once thought. But why would he be here if he was? And once in a while she would ask herself; is this a new sort of illusion her mind had created?

_But he is real_, a voice in her head would say. _You can touch him._ And just to make sure, she reaches for him again, finding flesh beneath her palm.

And she would wait, for she has all the time in the world. Someday he will wake up, he _has _to; because this abyss is not for the dead, and it does not exist. What does not exist cannot die, and therefore he will wake.

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Prologue/END

**Author's Note  
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I will not stop rewriting this until it's decent. Just, damn it. Oh, and reviews are love; everybody needs love.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 1_

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Green meets red.

The fallen man finally opens his eyes; and the most vibrant shade of green they are, glinting in the surrounding darkness. The prisoner stares, stunned, not knowing what to do. So she stays in place. Words and sentences are all forming in her mind, jumbled and nonsensical.

"Who are you?" and she is surprised by the sound, until she realizes that it came out of her own mouth. How silent it used to be. Just the barest hint of a sound seems out of place in this abyss.

He does not answer. But he does not avert his gaze either.

So the prisoner observes as best as she can. Just his presence is enough; because he is not dead, he is not imaginary, he is _real. _That much is enough for her; as something to anchor herself to.

And even if he will never speak it's okay. Because his eyes tells it all; everything that words can never express. She knows more than she can ever hope to; _he is broken. _

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He did not expect to come across anything from the living. But perhaps she is not, he doesn't know. He doesn't care. Should he care? Why? No one cares.

Her eyes are red though. Red like the color of blood, and red like the color of Tho—like who? Why should he care? He shouldn't.

She is no more than a little girl. A child. Maybe she is lost in the darkness.

Is she even real? But why should he care? No he doesn't, he shouldn't.

He does not care, he will never care, so go away, go away, _go away. _

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"Loki," the word is foreign to her tongue.

He had spoken, the fallen man had spoken. And the prisoner _feels. _An odd feeling is starting at the pit of her stomach, she would have thrown up if she could. But that's okay, because it's better than not feeling.

It hurts to speak, but she will endure for him. Because he is all she has.

"I'm Yin."

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The prisoner feels something akin to gratefulness. To whom she knows not of. Perhaps the fates? But hadn't they been cruel to her? Yes, they had been.

If anybody is to be thanked for, it should be the fallen man; Loki. For all the pain and agony, for all the time she had to spend in this dark abyss, for all the patience and endurance, this man had come, _fallen. _As a gift, as something to treasure.

It does not matter what his purpose is, or how he came to be here. What matters to Yin is that he is _here. _He is well and alive. His presence reminds her of a sense of humanity long forgotten.

But most of all she is thankful because she is no longer alone. Too long she has spent in this silent darkness, with none as company. Now she is no longer condemned to such cruel punishment.

Loki; her gift, her treasure, her savior. Hers.

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They don't know how much time has passed; could have been years, months, hours. But it was fine, and they were content with the easy silence, deep in their own thoughts. All is well.

Until the prison breaks.

A squeak escapes Yin's mouth as she scrambles up to her feet. The hard planes beneath her feet rumbles, shaking back and forth. Throughout her time, this has never happened before, and she feels her heart leap inside her ribcage; _fear. _

From the corner of her eye, the prisoner sees Loki standing up too. But he was much more composed, as though this is the most natural phenomenon to ever happen. It isn't.

The ground beneath their feet begins to crack and fall away. Yin takes a step back, but there is nowhere to run to. She turns her head to the fallen man, but he stands still.

With a sudden violent shake, the whole ground collapses, and they fall into the silent darkness.

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Yin wakes with a start.

The tell-tale signs of pain are muddled by her ringing ears, but she can't register anything but the blinding light over her person. She tries to find some semblance, something, anything, but the pain soon grows and overrides any other sensation in her brain, and any attempt to regain herself is lost.

Until a name she treasures voices itself in the back of her head; "Loki." And the girl finds herself uncurling from her fetal position. The unforgiving light blinds her, and she distinctly remembers something about light, but could not put a finger on it.

Once the ringing inside her head subsided, Yin starts to feel her skin prickling with pain. And then she remembers that she hadn't had contact with sunlight in a very long time. She eyes her arms, the skin cracking and blood seeping out.

In an attempt to find shade from the unforgiving light, she turns her head around, squinting as she tries to understand her surroundings; green. Planes of green grass as far as she could see. The air is dry, the sky cloudless. She is all alone.

"Loki?" she calls out, her voice cracking. Fear is now something that she feels a lot, and she does not like it. The ragged clothes she adorns isn't enough to shield her skin against the sun, but that isn't her primary concern at the moment.

Loki is nowhere to be found. She needs to find him. Find Loki. Where is he? _Where is he? _

The girl did not stop running, searching . Not until the moon replaces the burning sun did she finally fall on her knees in exhaustion. It's all alien to her; the grass, the sky, the air, everything. The chilly night soothes her burned skin, and with this newfound relief she continues to search for Loki.

She won't stop. Not until she find him.

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Night soon turns to dawn, and the girl finds herself sprawled against the dew covered grass. For so long she had dreamt of lying upon green, green grass, and yet now that it is fulfilled, she can feel nothing but loss.

Through a half muddled mind, Yin could hardly register the pain her person is going through-but that's fine, she thinks. It'll help her rest; the numbness. And so in exhaustion, her eyes close and she slips into a world of her own.

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After sending away few of the grotesque looking savages that roams this land, Loki allows himself to sit down on the throne made out of bones and skulls. Shortly after he had found himself on the vast grass planes of this realm, the savages had found him and worshiped him; as they rightfully should.

The fallen prince still wallows in grief; of his betrayal, of his loss, and of everything that should have been. But he'd rather pick up the broken pieces of himself somewhere far away. Not in this savaged realm. And so he shall find a path away from this world; to somewhere he may rest (and curse, and scream, and bleed, and cry).

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Another passing of the realm's unmerciful sun finds the now freed prisoner on her feet with every intent of reclaiming her treasure. Under the harsh light, and the suffocating heat of the realm, her skin blisters, and she finds herself bleeding through the thin scraps of fabric adorned.

The plane of grass field ranges far into the horizon, seemingly never ending. But Yin would not stop, nor would she let herself fester to death in these unfamiliar lands. If she squinted hard enough, she could make out the thin lines of a darker shade of green; trees it must mean.

But the long term imprisonment hadn't been kind, leaving her as nothing more than skin and bones. As it is, the girl could barely walk and the unmerciful sunlight burns her already cracked skin.

Just as her legs are about to fail her, she notices the silhouette of a man far away, near the shades of the trees. The sight of another living being still thrills her and she seizes the opportunity right away; "Help!" she screams, waving both of her arms up in the air to get the man's attention. From the distance she failed to see how there are more than one man, and that they are all armed heavily.

As they gather closer to her, Yin could finally see the men clearly; not very tall in stature, humanoid, but horribly disfigured. Their skin is colored an ashy gray, with tattoos and piercings, adorned in nothing but a loincloth. It's not a very pleasant sight to see, but she hopes that they'd be able to help her.

"Help!" she cries again, waving her arms over her head. One of the men poises what seems to be a weapon, and before Yin could react, an arrow lodges itself in her right shoulder. The impact sends her falling back into the grassy ground.

Her mind is reeling with panic, fear, and exhilaration. The pain is numbed by the adrenaline rushing through her veins, and her ears are loud with the thudding of her own heart. Before she could even get up, the men had already surrounded her.

"Stop!" Yin shouts. "I need-" before she could say anything, they had already grabbed her limbs and held them tightly. The girl tries to struggle, but her efforts were useless and tiring. Soon she finds her senses slowly wavering; the pain, the panic, the fear, she's not used to feeling. And too much of her blood had already spilled.

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"And what have you brought?" Loki asks, even though he knows that none of the pitiful savages before him could understand. He was summoned from his private chambers (pitiful, really, nothing more than a poorly made tree house) by a servant, and he wasn't particularly happy about it.

Now he stands a mere few feet away from the vast grass planes, under the shades of tall trees. A group of savaged men were approaching from the direction of the fields. Loki was about to snap at the servant for bringing him here for such a trivial matter before he sees what the men had brought with them. Oh what a sight it is, and yet it matters little to him.

What use might he have for a dying little girl? None.

But he stays in place until the girl is presented to him, bloody and bound. But very much alive. And his eyes meet hers; still the same color of blood red.

"Loki!" she cries, her whole person jerking up, struggling against the ropes that bound her. "Loki, I've been sear-" but she is cut off by a strike to the head from one of the savages. The hit renders the girl silent long enough for Loki to dismiss them and walk away.

He might not have use for her now, but he'll find one soon.

Chapter 1/END

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**Author's Note**

Reviews are love and awesome? But really, I do need feed-backs and critics. Umm...yeah. It's a new writing style.


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